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Riding the Wild Pooka
Apr. 19th, 2004 07:53 pmThis week's goal is to get back on schedule--writing pages, riding and working horses, weekly trips to town for errands. Nice, quiet, normal weekly life at DHF.
Today wasn't altogether successful. Horse chores, check. Pages, no. Fell asleep and slept all afternoon. Urg. Took a brain break--cleared a chunk of stuff off the PVR (TiVo for dummies with a satellite dish)--then went out to feed horses and ride da Pook.
Riding da Pook is a bit of a production. Since the riding arena is also the horse turnout, usually I just throw a saddle on somebody and ride in the middle of the herd. They're all good, they know the rules. But that's not something I can do with the stallion--since the rest of the crew are either female or the Evil Killer Nasty Rip His Face Off gelding. So, I have to stow the troops in stalls and corrals, and clear the arena. The easiest way to do this is feed everybody their dinner, feed Pook part of his while I'm moving horses around, then saddle up and ride in the evening.
He loves it when he gets alfalfa while I put out the hay for the rest of the crew. He knows it means a Ride! Hay gets put out, horses get put in, get their grain, then he comes out and gets groomed--wiggling all over and wrapping himself around me and mooching for treats--and along comes his Saddle! Happy Day!
His smile is a very silly thing. He flaps his tongue. We say this is how he keeps the gods from running a repo--since otherwise (as any stallion should be)he's about as perfect as you want a Lipizzan to be. So when he's being saddled, his tongue is flapping out the side of his mouth. Schlorrrrp!
Getting the saddle on is a challenge. Saddles are not made for pretzels--and he's wiggling and wrapping himself around me and trying to help me do up the girth. Finally it's on and he has his bridle on and we do our warmup, which is a free longe: I turn him loose and he walks and trots and runs around and gets the kinks out, and if he has any bucks in there, he gets those out, too. It's great fun for him and lovely for spectators, because he's pretty standing still, but in motion he's breathtaking. He floats; he flies. When he's ready, he stops and turns broadside and says, OK, Mom. Get on.
Getting on involves a bargain. He stands. I get on. He gets sugar. I get settled in the saddle. He's v e r y wide. But very comfortable. Quite a bit like the living-room sofa, but with warp engines. And a Beeeeg white neck arching up in front. And leeeeeetle teeeeny curly ears. And Attitude. This time of year, the hormone rushes snap off him like sparks, but once I'm in that saddle, he's Mr. Dedicated.
Today's ride was not our best. His movement is huge, and my back is still a bit dicey. It's fine when he's balanced, but he's young and green and sometimes he woobles, and that made for an occasional twinge. But it wasn't too bad. He would have liked to work on canter, and more on trot, but I wasn't up for that. So we worked on wiggly bits and accordion flexions (contracting and expanding over the topline, teaching him that the leg and rein are connected, and leg means use your topline)and a tiny bit of collecting aids for balance in walk and trot. I worked on keeping the shoulders level while following that big sweep and roll with the lower body--not so easy with back wanting to guard itself, but there were moments of success. And we reminded each other about outside aids and not pulling the inside rein (big counterintuitive steering thing).
He was very pleased. We always go up behind the house to take the saddle off and put it away in the storage shed--good obedience exercise as it involves being led up past the other horses including the Hated Gelding, and he has to stand with the leadrope over his neck while his saddle is being put away. I do this with all of them; it's good training. Then, usually, back down to the barn and the rest of his dinner.
Tonight he wasn't interested in dinner. He wanted to stay with me. And go Exploring. He took me right out through the uncleared acre, winding through the cactus and the creosote and the mesquite, up to the road and then back around the long way and down to the barn again. In the spring. Away from His Mares. Without freakout or warpspeed takeoff. I am amazed. It seems he's decided that when we're working, I'm his herd--so it doesn't matter if he leaves the other horses behind. That's a big change for him, and great news for his show career.
A good horse evening. And a good Pooka session. I'm happy.
Today wasn't altogether successful. Horse chores, check. Pages, no. Fell asleep and slept all afternoon. Urg. Took a brain break--cleared a chunk of stuff off the PVR (TiVo for dummies with a satellite dish)--then went out to feed horses and ride da Pook.
Riding da Pook is a bit of a production. Since the riding arena is also the horse turnout, usually I just throw a saddle on somebody and ride in the middle of the herd. They're all good, they know the rules. But that's not something I can do with the stallion--since the rest of the crew are either female or the Evil Killer Nasty Rip His Face Off gelding. So, I have to stow the troops in stalls and corrals, and clear the arena. The easiest way to do this is feed everybody their dinner, feed Pook part of his while I'm moving horses around, then saddle up and ride in the evening.
He loves it when he gets alfalfa while I put out the hay for the rest of the crew. He knows it means a Ride! Hay gets put out, horses get put in, get their grain, then he comes out and gets groomed--wiggling all over and wrapping himself around me and mooching for treats--and along comes his Saddle! Happy Day!
His smile is a very silly thing. He flaps his tongue. We say this is how he keeps the gods from running a repo--since otherwise (as any stallion should be)he's about as perfect as you want a Lipizzan to be. So when he's being saddled, his tongue is flapping out the side of his mouth. Schlorrrrp!
Getting the saddle on is a challenge. Saddles are not made for pretzels--and he's wiggling and wrapping himself around me and trying to help me do up the girth. Finally it's on and he has his bridle on and we do our warmup, which is a free longe: I turn him loose and he walks and trots and runs around and gets the kinks out, and if he has any bucks in there, he gets those out, too. It's great fun for him and lovely for spectators, because he's pretty standing still, but in motion he's breathtaking. He floats; he flies. When he's ready, he stops and turns broadside and says, OK, Mom. Get on.
Getting on involves a bargain. He stands. I get on. He gets sugar. I get settled in the saddle. He's v e r y wide. But very comfortable. Quite a bit like the living-room sofa, but with warp engines. And a Beeeeg white neck arching up in front. And leeeeeetle teeeeny curly ears. And Attitude. This time of year, the hormone rushes snap off him like sparks, but once I'm in that saddle, he's Mr. Dedicated.
Today's ride was not our best. His movement is huge, and my back is still a bit dicey. It's fine when he's balanced, but he's young and green and sometimes he woobles, and that made for an occasional twinge. But it wasn't too bad. He would have liked to work on canter, and more on trot, but I wasn't up for that. So we worked on wiggly bits and accordion flexions (contracting and expanding over the topline, teaching him that the leg and rein are connected, and leg means use your topline)and a tiny bit of collecting aids for balance in walk and trot. I worked on keeping the shoulders level while following that big sweep and roll with the lower body--not so easy with back wanting to guard itself, but there were moments of success. And we reminded each other about outside aids and not pulling the inside rein (big counterintuitive steering thing).
He was very pleased. We always go up behind the house to take the saddle off and put it away in the storage shed--good obedience exercise as it involves being led up past the other horses including the Hated Gelding, and he has to stand with the leadrope over his neck while his saddle is being put away. I do this with all of them; it's good training. Then, usually, back down to the barn and the rest of his dinner.
Tonight he wasn't interested in dinner. He wanted to stay with me. And go Exploring. He took me right out through the uncleared acre, winding through the cactus and the creosote and the mesquite, up to the road and then back around the long way and down to the barn again. In the spring. Away from His Mares. Without freakout or warpspeed takeoff. I am amazed. It seems he's decided that when we're working, I'm his herd--so it doesn't matter if he leaves the other horses behind. That's a big change for him, and great news for his show career.
A good horse evening. And a good Pooka session. I'm happy.
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